Angel on the move

 

You remember I told you the story of the angel statue that I had moved from the old farmer's place to the cemetery, then back to his place, then back to the cemetery again. See HERE. 

Well ... the saga continues. But before I tell you about it let me tell you about Ernest.

Ernest is a nice enough member of our church always eager to volunteer to do anything that’s needed, although he doesn’t always get it quite right. 

When an elderly member of our church with no family died, a few of us, including Ernest, got together to arrange his funeral. After we sorted out the Order of Service, hymns, choir, burial and so on, someone suggested that it would be a nice gesture if, as the deceased was lowered into the ground, all those standing around the grave would release white doves into the air as a symbol of peace. I thought it was a stupid idea but said nothing. Did I ever tell you I have a University Degree in cowardice?

Ernest volunteered to obtain the white doves at little expense from a friend of his.

On the day in question, as we all stood around the grave, there stood Ernest with a large box in his hands. At the appropriate time he opened the box and started handing out white gloves to all around him! 

That's Ernest. Eager to help but unable to listen.

OK ... now back to my story. As you recall, we left it with me putting the statue of an angel in its rightful place on the grave of the old farmer's wife.

 

The other day I got home late from work and ... SURPRISE ... the statue of the naked angel was in my front garden!

What the ... How did it get there? I already have a beautiful statue in my front garden of a naked Superman with his hand outstretched towards the sky as he is ready to fly off. Now there's a naked angel next to it. What will the neighbours say? Whatever next? Michelangelo's David and Venus de Milo? 

 

I quickly had to hide the statue somewhere, but it is too heavy to lift into my garage. I can't ring any of my friends to help me as they will start wondering why I keep moving the statue from one place to another. As it is, they have all been complicit in one way or another in the moving of this naked angel. 

As I entered the house to ask the family what they know about the appearance of the statue, the phone rings. It is Ernest. He works as a gardener at the cemetery. He reminds me that we discussed the removal of the statue when he saw me placing it on the grave the first time, so to help me he and his friends removed it to my house as per my wishes ... WHICH ARE NOT MY WISHES AT ALL!!! 

 

Ernest got it wrong again. In trying to help me he is now guilty of removing it and put it on my property. If the police found out because a neighbour complained, seeing they already know of its previous removal when the old farmer reported it, they would now accuse me of stealing it. 

After a few expletive words down the phone I told Ernest that the statue belongs to the old farmer and he is to remove it pronto or else!!! He says he knows the farmer because he buys his vegetables from there! I slammed the phone down on him with a few more swear words ... I find it difficult being a Christian sometimes.

I wish I had not lost my temper. Late that night, Ernest turned up when we were all asleep, and with some friends, he took away the statue and delivered it to the old farmer's front yard.

I only discovered the miss-delivery the next morning when I called on the farmer for vegetables.

" 'Tangel's back!" he said, "Can't understand it! What's it doin' 'ere?"

Well ... what could I say? How can I explain that the idiot Ernest moved it from the cemetery to my house and from my house to the farmer's yard? Simple explanation to you my readers. But not so simple to the farmer as he would ask me why Ernest would move it to my house in the first place. To explain this would implicate me in the previous removals to and fro of the statue.

 

As I said ... I find it difficult being a Christian sometimes. I only started all this in order to be helpful, and now we have a statue that has moved several times to the complete confusion of its owner.

I promised him to get it moved one last time and to get it cemented on the grave of his wife at my own cost.

What would you have done?